


It's Always You

by cowboykylux



Category: Marriage Story (Noah Baumbach)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Infidelity, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 09:50:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20374801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: In the process of a grueling divorce, Charlie turns to the one thing that gives him solace anymore -- you.





	It's Always You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is a re-post of a fic I put up on my tumblr account! I know some people here don't have a tumblr anymore and wanted to share the story with you all <3
> 
> For those that don't know, Charlie is Adam Driver's new character in the film Marriage Story. I hope you enjoy this soft angst! <3

_Whenever it's early twilight_

_I watch 'til a star breaks through_

_Funny, it's not a star I see_

_It's always you_

“You don’t have to say yes.” Charlie starts the conversation off, as you’re both browsing the produce.

Strawberries are in season, and you pick up a carton of them as he inspects bananas.

“Why don’t you ask me first?” You say, not really looking at him, voice low.

You had been meeting in the grocery store for a year now, every Sunday, at exactly ten a.m. It was one of the only things that you both knew you could count on, meeting every week, seeing each other every week. No one knew you there but the staff, and they didn’t suspect. They just thought you were a couple of regulars.

No one suspected.

Charlie picks a bunch of bananas and puts them in his cart, along with the other things he’s gotten for the week.

“Keep me company?” He asks, looking at you now, passing you with his cart but stopping right in front of you. “It’s the first night in the new place. The first night…”

He doesn’t say _the first night I’ll be alone. _

He doesn’t have to, you hear it anyway.

“Why would I say no?” You ask back, voice soft.

“Because I barely have any furniture yet and all I can offer you is a takeaway dinner and some TV and – ” Charlie starts to get worked up, starts to do that thing that he does when he’s frayed at the edges.

You hate to see him like this.

“Of course I’ll stay with you.” You want to reach out and hold him, so badly. You want to, but you can’t, not here, not now. Not where everyone can see and know, you can’t let them know.

“All night?” Charlie pleads, and you don’t feel like you’re in the produce section of the grocery store, not when he looks at you like that. You feel lost in his gaze, like you’re on an island somewhere, somewhere sunny and warm.

You know better, there are dark clouds on the horizon, a storm coming to the island.

“All night.” You say with a nod as you reach for raspberries too. “I’ll make breakfast in the morning and you can tell me about your plans for the place.”

Charlie nods and walks away, pushes his cart to the deli. You go to the bakery.

_Whenever I roam through roses_

_And lately I often do_

_Funny, it's not a rose I touch_

_It's always you_

“It’s a house.” He says, when you reconnect near the cereal. Charlie loved cereal, the boring flavors. You loved that about him, it meant you didn’t have to share yours. “It’s a nice house. I didn’t want to do that thing, you know? That thing where the dad moves away and lives in a bachelor pad apartment forever. I want Henry to have a backyard he can run around in, I want him to have someplace he’ll be excited to visit.”

“He’d be excited to visit you if you lived in a shoebox.” You smile, a little more open now that you were tucked away in an aisle, instead of out in the open.

“Maybe now, but when he grows up and resents me, it won’t be so easy.” Charlie groans, and you give him a hard stern look.

“Henry _isn’t_ going to resent you.” You place a hand on his, right over it, right over where it sits on the handle of the shopping cart. “And I’ll tell you that all night if I have to. I’ll tell you all night.”

The grocery store plays jazz, and the storm starts to break, rain falling down on the roof of the grocery store.

Charlie tucks a slip of paper into your purse, an address. His new address, just outside of town.

You part ways.

_If a breeze caresses me_

_It's really you strolling by_

_If I hear a melody_

_It's merely the way you sigh_

“I never thought I could have this, you know.” He says with a sigh, hours later.

You followed the address right to his front door, a stunning two-story painted all white.

It was empty, painfully empty.

But there would be time, time for love, time to fill it with memories.

“Have what?” You ask, your head on his shoulder.

All he’s got in the living room is a love-seat, and a television balanced on a stool. It’s late, much too late, you both have work in the morning, you have to leave and go back to pretending there’s nothing going on here, there’s nothing.

Nothing that anyone can prove.

There’s so much, but nothing anyone can prove.

“You, next to me like this.” He says, resting his cheek on the top of your head, slowly moving to hold your hand in his, intertwine the fingers. “I wanted it for so long, and I know – I know that makes me a bad person. But it’s true.”

“You remember that time I couldn’t babysit Henry because I had a date? Like a year ago?” You say softly, watching as the blue glow from the television casts shadows on the wall.

“Yeah.” Charlie says, says it like he’s angry, like he’d rather not remember.

“It went really well, they were nice and funny and interesting. They complimented my outfit and my hair and asked about what I did and had genuine questions about my hobbies. We talked about politics and celebrities and the national news and the community gossip and we were on the same page about everything. I never called them back.” You continue, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“How come?” He whispers, watching you trace his knuckles with your free hand.

“Because the entire time, all I could think about was you.” You glanced up, eyes wet, nervous. So nervous that now, even after all this, after everything, he’d reject you, get mad at you.

Instead, he kisses you, and your body feels like it’s on fire, like the lightning outside is zipping through you and not the atmosphere.

“It felt like a betrayal, to be out on a date that wasn’t with you. And how fucking stupid was that? To reject someone who seemed perfect on the surface, just because they weren’t you?” You ask, stuck – you were so stuck, a fool. You were a fool for this man. “I never thought I would know you as anything other than my best friend, my neighbor. And still, the whole time I just wanted to be with you, a married man.”

“I’m not married anymore.” Charlie says, says it like it’s a secret, like he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Maybe he hasn’t.

“No, you’re not.” You agree, run your finger over the spot where the wedding ring used to live.

“I haven’t felt married in a long time.” He confesses, and you can’t help but let out a sad laugh at that.

“I know.” You say, “If you had, I don’t think you’d’ve even taken one look at me.”

“Yes, I would’ve.” Charlie shakes his head, reaches his free hand up and presses the pads of his fingers to your cheek, just the lightest of touches.

It’s so late, late enough that it might as well be morning.

You knew you could call in to work tomorrow, tell them something came up – but Charlie couldn’t. Charlie was important, was needed. So many people needed Charlie.

“I didn’t bring any night-clothes.” You say, just to have something to say, just to talk to him.

You loved talking to him.

“You can wear something of mine.” He says with a frown, but you chuckle a bit.

“Charlie.” You raise your eyebrows, and he gets it, picks up the hint.

“Oh!” He says, too loud, startling the both of you. “Oh, or we could both wear nothing.”

“I don’t want to pressure you into anything, I just thought – ” You immediately backtrack, not wanting to push him into what you want, not wanting to make him feel obligated.

“You’re not! Believe me, you’re not.” He says, squeezes your hand tight, casts his eyes down in embarrassment. “It’s just been a while…since I’ve had sex.”

“Me too.” You re-assure him, sad for him.

If he were your husband, you’d want to have sex with him every day.

You don’t say it out loud, but he hears it anyway. 

“Okay.” He nods, turns off the tv.

_Wherever you are, you're near me_

_You dare me to be untrue_

_Funny, each time I fall in love_

_It's always you_

He kisses you in the dark of the living room, strips you naked.

He unwraps you like a present, one he’s been looking forward to all year, one he takes his time opening because even the wrapping-paper is precious. 

Your hands shake as they unbutton his clothes, and he kisses you to help you relax, he kisses to help his own hands calm themselves, calm himself.

It’s the first time his hands can touch you like this, can reveal you to him like this, he needs to kiss you.

The bedroom is even more scarce, nothing but a bed against the wall.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, sounding so pained, like he would shatter if you said no.

You’re half asleep, tucked under the covers and pressed against his warm frame, soaking up the heat that his body radiates. You don’t really hear him, don’t know if you were dreaming it or not, in that state of half asleep.

“Hm?” You blink an eye open, found his lidded ones looking right at you, face so close you almost have to go cross-eyed to see him in the low light.

“You look so soft, can I?” He asks again, mouth so warm as he bridges the gap between you and presses the sweetest of chaste kisses to your lips.

“Please, please Charlie.” You kiss him back, the sound of gentle kisses thrumming in your ears, beating in your chest. “I’ve dreamt about you touching me.”

And it was true, you had – too many nights spent, dreaming of his hands on you. Dreaming of the times when you stole moments at parties, or at ‘chance’ meetings out in the city. Dreaming of the way his touch lingered on your sleeve, or the hem of your skirt, or your shoulders as he helped you into your coat.

You roll onto your back, and Charlie follows, props himself up on his side as his free hand leaves goosebumps in its wake, touch scorching your skin as he lets a hand cup your breast, his thumb toy with your nipple.

“I don’t know how I’m going to live here without you,” Charlie says, chin wobbling as he shuffles closer to you, kisses your bare chest, “Be in this bed without you.”

You pull him to lay his head on your sternum, encourage him to bury his face into your chest and breathe you in. You run a hand through his hair as he peppers kisses all over you, years and years of waiting for this.

“You won’t have to, not for long.” You reassure him, although not sounding so convinced yourself, “We just need a little time, a little more time so it doesn’t reflect poorly on you, on your career.”

The last thing you want is for people to think badly of him. Charlie is the least bad person you know, but people love to gossip. They love to hop on a rumor and run with it, they love to expose and destroy and you want none of that for Charlie – none of it.

So if you have to wait, you would wait. Charlie is having none of it.

“I’ve wasted so much time being apart from you as it is.” He whispers, listening to your heartbeat for a moment.

The thunder has subsided now, the storm passing, leaving nothing but the gentle patter of rain in its wake.

“You’ve got me now, Charlie I promise.” You whisper back, “I promise you’ve got me. Touch me, please?”

His hands shake as he trails them down your chest, down your stomach, between your legs. You suck in a breath of anticipation and spread your thighs, just enough so he can dip his fingers in between the warm folds of your cunt.

“You have to tell me,” He says, licking his lips as he shuffles even closer, his stomach now pressing up against your side, “You have to tell me what you like, how you like it. I want to make you feel so fucking good.”

You loop your arms around his neck, reach up to kiss him. God he is such a good kisser, his lips are perfect for it, perfect. His tongue is hot and insistent as he pulls noises out of your throat, you can only imagine that tongue shoved in your pussy.

Maybe you’d ask for it – you could ask for things now, you could have them.

You could have _him. _

“Three,” You gasp against his mouth, “Three fingers and I’ll come – you’ll make me come.” You say, and he moans, _moans _at the thought.

“Fuck,” He sighs, doing as you tell him, starting off with one…then two, “I’ve thought about it, what you look like, how you sound when you come. When I jerk off in the shower it’s to the thought of you crying out my name, say my name?”

“Charlie!” You gasp when he pumps those fingers in and out of you, eyes shut tight because you can’t bear the pleasure of it, “Oh yes, please? Please!”

“You’re so sweet, so sweet for me.” He murmurs, in awe, as he adds the third finger. “C-can I – ?”

His cock is hard against your thigh where he’s pressed against you, and you’re already nodding before he can even finish asking.

“I don’t want to wait any more.” You gasp, moan, keen for him.

His hands are so big, his cock is even bigger. How was he not constantly getting laid?

“I don’t have – fuck I’m so stupid, I don’t have anything.” Charlie pulls away just a minute, unsure what to do, trying to think.

“It’s okay, it’s okay I’m – ” You swallow, your throat clicks, “I’m on the pill.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, moves to lay on top of you, props his weight up on his hands.

You smooth your hands down his back, feel the way his muscles move as he bends down to kiss you. He’s so hungry for you, you can taste it.

“Next time, I’ll get some for next time.” He promises, and a jolt goes through you.

Next time, there’ll be a next time.

“Do you want me on my – ” You start, but he shakes his head, desperate.

“No, stay like this, please?” He asks, “I want to look at you, I want to see you.”

And you grin, heart beating wildly. You nod, smiling too wide, that smile that drops into a gasp as he runs the head of his cock against the folds of your pussy, as he pushes in.

He’s everything you thought he would be, as he fucks you.

“Yes, oh – yes! Fuck.” You can’t help but moan, but sigh.

He’s not rough with you, you’re too precious to him for that, but he takes what he wants – what he needs.

You’re glad to give him what he needs, glad that he needs you, your cunt.

He savors this, like he does everything with you, and there’s a thrill that this doesn’t have to be a secret, not for much longer.

You don’t know how long you both last before you’re coming, before you’re clenching down around him and sweating against his skin, panting against his lips. He swallows your moans, eats them whole, kisses and sucks at your lips, your neck, your shoulders.

“I’m going to come.” He warns you, but you claw at him, desperate for him to stay as close to you as possible.

“You can come in me, it’s okay Charlie.” You tell him, can barely get the words out.

He comes, groans your name as he does.

You swear you can feel wetness on your neck from where he must be crying against you, so overwhelmed with everything.

You pet through his hair, feel his come pulse inside you, feel so wholly and completely _his. _

_If a breeze caresses me_

_It's really you strolling by_

_If I hear a melody_

_It's merely the way you sigh_

“I’m going to want this all the time.” He sighs, a few moments later, once he’s regained his own ability to speak.

“Want what?” You ask, and he pulls out of you, collapses down onto the mattress, not moving an inch away from you if he can help it.

“You.” He says with a smile, “Here, with me. In my bed. My come in you. And the second this whole fucking divorce blows over, I’m going to want you at the theater with me, I’m going to want you walking down the street with me, going out to dinner with me – me and Henry.”

“He’s going to be mad at me.” You sigh, thinking about Charlie’s son.

You were terrified, once he finds out what you did, how you broke up his family.

“He loves you.” Charlie frowns, holds your face in between his hands, “He really fucking loves you. You know, one of the reasons he wanted to stay living with Nicole? Because that house is next door to you.”

“No he didn’t.” You whisper, in disbelief.

“Yes, he really did.” He insists, “You’re a genuine friend to him, (Y/N). He doesn’t have many of those. Imagine if you were to…”

“Were to what?” You ask when he trails off.

“Live here, with me.” Charlie says, so soft you almost don’t hear it. “I’d never ask you to move out of your house, but – ”

“I honestly don’t know if I can stay living next to Nicole.” You say, thinking about it, _really _thinking about it. “Once she finds out about us, about this, it’ll be too uncomfortable to bear, for both of us. I don’t want to hurt her any more than I already have.”

“You could keep the house, rent it to a family. There are tons of families who want a house this close to the city. We could have a green kitchen.” Charlie had been thinking about it too, you can tell.

“Six months.” You say, “Six months after the divorce, I’ll move in. Six months, and then we don’t have to hide anymore.”

There’s a moment of silence, and in the dark you can see Charlie’s wet eyes shine.

“I can do that, I can do six months.” He nods, voice wobbling, filled with hope. “I’d do six _years_, if I knew – if I knew at the end of it you’d be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Charlie.” You promise, and it’s true.

It’s true.

_Wherever you are, you're near me_

_You dare me to be untrue_

_Funny, each time I fall in love_

_It's always you_


End file.
